


Gimme a Break

by Meatball42



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Autumn, Candy, Cats, Corpses, Dark, Dusk - Freeform, Happy Ending, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Moon, Nightmares, Nighttime, Peace, Trapped, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2020-12-14 01:23:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21007388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meatball42/pseuds/Meatball42
Summary: The sun is going down. Looking at it hurts, but it doesn’t feel worse than how he feels inside, so he looks anyway, the pinks and oranges prove that the world outside, at least, can still be beautiful.Bucky doesn’t want beautiful. He lays back down and closes his eyes.“Are you using your coping skills?” Steve calls from the kitchen.“No.”





	Gimme a Break

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreamerfound](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamerfound/gifts).

_ His breath was clouds in front of his face. It clouded up the scope of the rifle unless he breathed very carefully. It was a dark night, and he couldn’t afford anything impeding his view. _

_ Bucky breathed very carefully and looked through his scope. The German base wasn’t well-defended, but Dernier had a badly wrenched ankle and he’d stayed behind. The other Commandos needed to be on the top of their game to infiltrate the base. _

_ Bucky blinked, and things looked very different. _

_ Dum-Dum, lying in the middle of the quiet base, unmoving. Jones, slumped lifeless against a wall, blood spilling over his coat. _

_ How had he missed the attack going so wrong? Bucky’s breath came faster and fogged up his scope as he scanned the area for the enemy. _

_ There was Falsworth crouching over Morita’s writhing body, and a flurry of movement behind him. Bucky raised his sight and fired— _

_ And Steve’s head exploded. _

  
  


_ “Stupid!” _

_ The handler punctuated his criticism with a slap to the Soldier’s face. _

_ The Soldier didn’t react. He didn’t know what he’d done wrong, but it didn’t really matter. He’d be punished, or he wouldn’t, and then he’d go into the cold again. The target was dead. What else mattered? _

_ The handler didn’t see it that way. He paced the room, muttering to himself. The Soldier’s guards kept their weapons aimed at him unerringly, as though they could stop him if he were to fight back. _

_ The Soldier never fought back. _

_ “Put him in the water,” the handler ordered. _

_ The Soldier sat up straighter and looked at the handler. His heart began to pound. The handler met his eyes, rage glittering. _

_ His guards tightened their hold on their weapons. They knew they wouldn’t be enough if he fought back. _

_ The Soldier didn’t fight back. _

_ The handler barked at the guards and they dragged him to the cold pool on the edge of the base and threw him in. _

  


“Bucky, wake up!”

The Soldier’s eyes fly open. He is on the ground, surrounded by furniture. He springs to his feet in a combat stance, arms up in guard position, ready.

Across the living room, Steve has his hands up, empty.

“You were having a nightmare,” he says calmly. “You must have fallen off the couch.”

A few long breaths later, Bucky nods.

His knees are weak from the shock and the change in position. And the dreams. A mix of things that happened and things that didn’t. He rubs his eyes with his right hand.

Steve flicks the kitchen light on and starts dinner while Bucky composes himself. It’s late in the afternoon. He must have fallen asleep after lunch, watching TV. He feels over-tired, now, with a pounding head and gritty eyes. The sun is going down. Looking at it hurts, but it doesn’t feel worse than how he feels inside, so he looks anyway, the pinks and oranges prove that the world outside, at least, can still be beautiful.

Bucky doesn’t want beautiful. He lays back down and closes his eyes.

“Are you using your coping skills?” Steve calls from the kitchen.

“No.”

A minute later, there are footsteps nearby, and a complaining bundle of sharp nails and warm fur is placed on Bucky’s chest. He smiles, brings his hands up to cradle Aneshka, and opens his eyes enough for a weak glare.

“Can’t you just let me mope?”

“No.”

Steve looks like he wants to run his hand through Bucky’s hair, but Bucky doesn’t like touch after nightmares. He goes back to the kitchen.

Aneshka’s paw comes down on the bare skin of his neck, and Bucky takes that as a warning to become upright before he loses blood.

He gets up and brings the black and white kitty outside to sit on the patio. It’s only autumn, but the dusk air is cool enough that he holds Aneshka close to his chest and appreciates the warm contrast of her body against the air. 

He sits for a while, appreciating the quiet, the cold breeze that occasionally comes by to remind him that he’s alive. Eventually, he starts to whisper to Aneshka what he saw in his sleep. What parts were real, what wasn’t. What he’s still afraid of.

Aneshka lives up to her emotional support certification and purrs at him when he feels the most shitty. 

He’s laughing at her and playing tug of war with a little piece of string when Steve comes out. They have a little table out here, and Steve puts down a big plate and two water bottles.

“Frozen pizza?”

“Just a snack,” Steve grumbles. “It’s still your turn to cook.”

Bucky shakes his head and digs in. The salt and fat bring back some cheer. His stomach being empty correlates to the world feeling empty, he’s found, which is one reason he’s started putting some healthy weight back on.

“Here.”

Steve passes him a king-size KitKat. When Bucky’s at his saddest, he’ll eat a whole bar in about four bites. Steve remembers, and hid a stash that Bucky pretends not to know about.

He’s feeling okay, so he offers Steve a break. Steve takes it, along with the hint that Bucky’s feeling better, and brings his chair closes. He pets Aneshka, then kisses Bucky’s shoulder.

“Better?” he mutters into Bucky’s sweater.

Bucky leans forward and puts Aneshka down, and then pulls Steve in for a real kiss.

“Getting there,” he says.

Above them, the moon shines, clean and clear.


End file.
